Page 18 of I am Jael (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

“I am very happy for you, Jane,” Mr. Bennet said gravely, kissing his eldest daughter on the forehead. “Mr. Bingley is a fine man, and I believe you will be a happy woman.”

“You will hold balls at Netherfield, will you not?” Lydia beseeched.

“Oh yes, and may I paint in the back garden next summer?” Kitty implored.

“I would relish using Netherfield’s library,” Mary enthused politely.

“We must speak of your wedding clothes, dear Jane,” Mrs. Bennet cried excitedly. “We must go to London, the better to purchase appropriate attire for you to start your married life.”

“Mother,” Jane replied quietly but firmly, “the Gardiners will be visiting for Christmas, and Mr. Bingley and I wish to marry soon after so that they can attend the ceremony. Mrs. Smith in Meryton can make up the clothes.”

Mrs. Bennet complained at some length about these restrained plans, but she was too happy to be as obstinate as usual. Mr. Bennet, after making a few caustic remarks about how pleasant it was that someone in the family was willing to be frugal, retired to his library.

Lydia was envious of Jane’s good fortune, Kitty was happy, Mary sermonized, and Jane glowed.

In the midst of the cacophony of noise and emotion, Elizabeth was largely quiet, her heart full of joy. She could not be more overjoyed for her dear sister, who had won the adoration of a kind and generous man.

/

“Elizabeth.”

Darcy woke up with a jolt and sat up, his heart beating fast, sweat beading on his brow. He looked around his bedroom in bewilderment, then leaned back against his pillow with a groan.

The dream had been so very vivid, of Elizabeth walking down the aisle of the Kympton Church back in Derbyshire. Her beautiful eyes had been glowing, her face alight with love for him. She had been dressed in green with light blue ribbons interwoven. She was the epitome of loveliness.

It had just been a dream.

Abruptly, Darcy rolled out of bed and walked over to a water pitcher, poured himself a cupful, and quickly drank.

He put down the glass and walked over to the window.

His bedroom faced east, and the sky was still dark.Though the sun rose late in the winter months, he could tell it was still very early.

He passed a shaking hand over his brow and forced himself to face the truth.

He was desperately in love with Elizabeth Bennet.

He could not live without her. And indeed, there was no reason why he should live without her.

Richard and Georgiana had both encouraged him to follow his head and heart.

Miss Elizabeth was charming, well read, diligent, kind, and intelligent.

She was the perfect woman for him. Why was he fighting his attraction?

She was the perfect wife for him, and would help administer Pemberley with compassion and understanding.

He would no longer fight his inclination. He would propose to Elizabeth as soon as possible.

Elation and euphoria caused his blood to surge and pound in his head, and he briefly felt lightheaded. It was such a relief to finally make a decision!

Although ...

He moaned softly. He had insulted Elizabeth at the Meryton assembly and while their interactions since then had been much improved, he was not at all certain she even liked him. For most women, that would not be an issue given his wealth and status.

Elizabeth, however, was not most women, and praise the Almighty for that! He must be careful when he proposed to her. He must use the proper verbiage to ensure that she knew how very much he loved her.

He was not good with words of love, however. What if he spoke poorly and turned her against him?

He needed help.

/

“All right, Darcy, go ahead.”

Fitzwilliam Darcy, son of George and Anne Darcy, Master of Pemberley, straightened to his full height and faced his cousin. In his mind’s eye, the beautiful vision formed of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the love of his life.

In a resolute tone, he stated, “Miss Elizabeth, I must tell you how ardently I admire you. I realize that your family background most regrettably includes ties to trade, that your mother and younger sisters act in an insensible and indiscreet manner, that your family home is entailed, but nevertheless ...”

He broke off at the roar of laughter emanating from his cousin, who proceeded to slap his knee in an effort to contain his mirth.

He glared at Fitzwilliam truculently, “What is so amusing, Richard?”

“You are amusing, dear fellow. You absolutely should not begin a marriage proposal by pointing out that your beloved’s family is poor, beneath you, and vulgar to boot. What are you thinking?”

Darcy grimaced in embarrassment, “I only meant to assure Miss Elizabeth that I love her in spite of ... but I do see your point, Richard. She already may disdain me for what I said at that blasted assembly.”

“Not handsome enough to dance with?” Fitzwilliam repeated, causing his cousin to wince. “Yes, I agree. You need to be suitably chastened, respectful, and adoring, Darcy.”

Darcy sighed and sat down at a nearby desk in the library, pulled out a piece of paper, and began scribbling away vigorously.

After twenty minutes of writing prose and crossing out lines and words, he handed the completed product over to his cousin, who carefully poured a brandy before looking down at it.

The Master of Pemberley rose to his feet and began pacing as Richard read his words carefully. After two minutes, Darcy heard an agonized groan and turned resentful eyes on his cousin.

“Now what is the problem, Richard?” he demanded in frustration.

“Now you are too fulsome, dear fellow. Your eyes are like diamonds? Your feet so light that you seem to be treading on air? Your hair is like diaphanous silk? I worship you? No, Darcy, I think it’s a bit much, especially coming from you.”

Darcy’s shoulders slumped in dejection, “I agree, Richard, but what should I say?”

The Colonel looked down at Darcy’s written proposal, grasped a pen, and carefully began blotting out line after line. When he was finished, he handed the paper to his cousin.

Darcy looked down, “Miss Elizabeth, I must tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Your beauty, your wit, and your kindness have won my heart. I hope that you will make me the happiest of men by accepting my hand in marriage.”

He looked up at Richard, his eyes perplexed, “That’s it?”

“Yes, Darcy, that’s it.”

/

Elizabeth picked up her pace, moving her arms briskly to stir the blood in her cold hands and feet.

It was a chilly day, but sunny, and she welcomed the opportunity to escape her noisy house and enjoy the comparative silence of the soft winds shifting the branches of the now barren trees.

A week had passed since Jane and Mr. Bingley had become engaged, and the banns had been read once in church.

Life at Longbourn was, if anything, even more frenetic and noisy than usual.

The house was filled from day to night with Mrs. Bennet’s cries of joy and anxiety over the wedding breakfast, Mr. Bennet’s sarcastic remarks, the shrill chatter of Lydia and Kitty, and the endless playing of the pianoforte by Mary.

It was chaotic and stressful and Elizabeth was disturbed to realize that she felt an undercurrent of pervasive sadness.

She was going to miss Jane so very much.

She was incredibly happy for her sister, of course she was, but Jane brought serenity and peace to the Bennet family.

Elizabeth loved her family, but everyone except her eldest sister exasperated her on a regular basis.

Jane was the gentle mediator between the sisters, between Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, between all of them.

What would Longbourn be like with Jane gone forever?

“Miss Elizabeth!”

Elizabeth turned with a mixture of surprise and irritation. Really, must she continually be interrupted in her walks?

“Mr. Darcy,” she replied politely as her eyes widened slightly. Mr. Darcy was always tall and handsome, but mounted on his black steed, his locks windblown in the brisk air, he was truly impressive.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy repeated rather awkwardly, and swung down from his horse. “Mr. Bingley told me of your penchant for traversing these paths in the early hours. I rode out today in the hopes of meeting you.”

Now she was truly startled, “To meet me?”

“Yes,” Darcy replied, taking a deep breath even as he was aware of the beating of his heart.

“Miss Elizabeth, I must tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Your beauty, your wit, and your kindness have won my heart. I hope that you will make me the happiest of men by accepting my hand in marriage.”

Elizabeth Bennet stared incredulously at the tall man standing in front of her as her mouth fell open slightly. Mr. Darcy proposing? To her? How could this be?

Fitzwilliam Darcy, across from her, waited in nervous anticipation. Given the look on his love’s face, the proposal had been found wanting.

Darcy’s heart sank as Elizabeth finally managed to open her mouth, “Mr. Darcy, I truly am honored and, I admit, surprised. I had no idea that you admired me. I ... I will be honest, sir, in saying that I truly wish I could accept your proposals but in good conscience, I cannot.”

Hope and despair warred in the young man’s chest as he searched her face intently, “I do not understand, Miss Elizabeth. Are you saying that you are attached to another?”

“No, not at all, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, her cheeks reddening in discomfort.

“Please, Miss Bennet, know that if you accept my suit, I will do everything I can to make you happy,” Darcy averred.

Elizabeth looked away for a long moment. She was tempted, sorely tempted, to accept but she could not bear ...

“Mr. Darcy,” she said suddenly, throwing aside propriety in favor of honesty, “I fear that you do not know me well enough to make an offer. I fear that we will not suit.”