Page 1 of The Power of Refusal

“W ould you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

The words hung in the air. Silence followed. Elizabeth’s stomach lurched. A sickening sensation prickled her skin. She had seen subtle signs this might come—the glances, the way his voice softened when he spoke to her. But she had not encouraged the man. When circumstances threw them together in company, she was civil to him, no more. As much as she dreaded it, she was about to reject her fifth marriage proposal.

Elizabeth pondered her unwanted ability to attract proposals of marriage from gentlemen for whom she had deliberately expressed no interest. The first proposals had come as a shock. Mr Collins, blind to her dislike, saw his offer as a magnanimous gesture, and could not fathom her refusal.

Well, Mr Collins hardly counted. There was no way on earth she might consider accepting that man. He was, of course, heir to Longbourn, but even her father agreed that did not make the match prudent. Long-winded, self-important, and lacking any discernible wit, he had proposed and been rejected on but a few days’ acquaintance.

To Elizabeth’s astonishment, her dear friend Charlotte Lucas accepted the man mere days later. Charlotte, longing for her own establishment, looked on his proposal as if a godsend. “Engaged to Mr Collins! My dear Charlotte, impossible!” Elizabeth had cried, which offended her dear friend. As recompense, Elizabeth accepted her invitation to visit the newlyweds in Hunsford come March. Elizabeth had not at first thought very seriously of going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the plan, and Elizabeth therefore tolerated a very noisy and dusty ride to Kent in the company of Charlotte’s voluble father and sister.

There, Elizabeth had committed the most egregious error of her existence. There she had refused her second proposal, the one refusal that she learnt to regret.