Page 2 of Why I Kissed You (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
Darcy scoffed. “You mean to say that she badgered you to tell her where I was, and when you could not provide the information, she complained about how ill-mannered I was not to attend her.”
His cousin grinned as he stopped by his side. “Something to that effect,” said he. Fitzwilliam then reached for one of the crumpled balls of paper. “Will, you may be rich, but even you are aware that paper is expensive and should not be wasted in this manner.”
Darcy snatched it back from him and tossed it back with the others. “I cannot seem to get my thoughts in order,” he grumbled.
Fitzwilliam turned and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms as he said, “Tell me what the trouble is; maybe I can help you sort it.”
With a sigh, Darcy sat back in his chair. “I… I paid a call on Miss Bennet.”
“Oh, did you?” Fitzwilliam returned. “I am glad of it, for how suddenly that headache came upon her concerned me. Is she well?”
He glanced again at the balls of paper and his expression fell. “Oh dear… What happened? Did she confront you about Bingley? She did seem rather incensed when I told her of your triumph there.”
Darcy looked up at him. “Oh, so you have been the means of ruining my chances? Thank you, Theodore. Thank you ever so much.”
“Ruining your chances?” Fitzwilliam queried. “Don’t tell me you… Oh, good heavens, did you propose marriage to her?”
“I did,” Darcy replied with a nod. “And she has refused me.”
Fitzwilliam stood back, a frown on his face. “Refused you? I thought Miss Bennet to have more sense than to refuse so eligible a match as you! Whatever is the foolish girl about? Why did she refuse you?”
Darcy turned to face his cousin, draping his arm across the back of his chair as he said, “In part because someone revealed that I’d had a hand in separating Charles Bingley from her sister.”
Fitzwilliam’s expression showed him to be both mortified and astonished. “Good God, Darcy… I had no idea that… Her sister was the lady?”
He turned and paced away, running a hand through his dark hair before he turned back to say, “I’m sorry, cousin.
It’s just that I had noticed you seemed enamored of Miss Bennet, and I spoke of your triumph only to showcase how kind you are to your friends.
I was trying to help you on, not sabotage your chances. ”
Darcy sighed. “You could hardly be trying to sabotage me when you had no idea of Bingley’s paramour being Miss Bennet’s elder sister,” he said.
Fitzwilliam retrieved a chair from across the room and brought it over to sit next to him. “What happened? What did she say to you? What did you say to her?”
With another heavy sigh, and no small amount of embarrassment, Darcy recounted the disastrous visit to the parsonage.
Repeating every word he had said only increased his mortification at his own boorish behaviour—repeating hers only served to drive home the fact that she was right about him.
He’d hardly conducted himself in Meryton in such a way as to curry favor, with her or anyone else.
It was no wonder he’d been thought proud and conceited there, and he had little doubt that after he’d gone, Wickham’s lies had spread like the plague.
He’d been blind to Elizabeth’s dislike of him and had only thought of how happy she must be to receive his offer.
We are all of us fools in love , he thought morosely.
Darcy stopped himself just before confessing that he and Elizabeth had kissed.
His cousin did not need to hear of that particular bit of ungentlemanly behaviour.
When Fitzwilliam only continued to stare silently at him, his countenance once again full of astonishment, Darcy groaned and prompted him to speak.
“I… I honestly am not sure what to say,” Fitzwilliam said. “I am amazed at both of you.”
“In what way?”
Fitzwilliam scoffed. “Well, for starters, that you were fool enough to think telling a lady why you shouldn’t marry her and that you’d fought like the dickens to repress your feelings was an acceptable means of proposing marriage.
I’m also astonished that a smart young woman like Miss Bennet is fool enough to believe the word of a scoundrel like George Wickham. ”
“She does not know him as we do, Theo,” Darcy said. “As I told you, I believe she already disliked me when she met him, and he found in her a sympathetic ear. And you know how I am among strangers—we talked of the very subject with Miss Bennet after dinner one evening, do not you remember?”
Fitzwilliam nodded. “I remember. I also recall telling you once that your reticence to engage with unfamiliar company would be your undoing.”
“Yes, if only I had heeded you then,” Darcy grumbled. “What am I to do? I do not imagine Miss Bennet will ever rescind her rejection, nor that I should even accept her if she did change her mind. But I cannot bear the thought of her thinking ill of me.”
“Hence the letter,” his cousin mused, looking once again to the crumpled sheets. “Do not write one, Will, and cast the waste into the fireplace. A letter won’t do.”
“I know that writing to her is inappropriate—given we are not bound by betrothal, marriage, or blood—but how then am I to explain why I sought to separate Bingley from her sister, as well as reveal Wickham for the libertine that he is?”
Fitzwilliam surprised him by laughing. “Come now, Will, you’re a smarter lad than this! If you can’t write to a lady, what else can you do?”
Darcy frowned. “You think I should talk to her?”
“Yes!” his cousin cried. “Call upon her again—not right now, of course, for sensibilities are still much too provoked on both sides, I imagine. Wait until tomorrow, that you’ve both some time to settle your vexation and think rationally.”
Fitzwilliam then stood and carried his chair back to its original place. “I am truly sorry for my part in making things difficult for you, Will. You must know I would never maliciously interfere.”
Sighing, Darcy nodded. “I know that your intentions were noble.”
“At the very least, I would say you owe Miss Bennet some form of apology,” Fitzwilliam went on.
“It doesn’t matter if you were right about anything, the fact is that you insulted her and her family, and that was an ungentlemanlike thing to do.
Take the night to think about what each of you said to the other—sober reflection can only do you good, and I cannot imagine that her thoughts and meditations will be any different than yours.
Hopefully you will both see that neither of you is entirely faultless, and that only owning your mistakes will make things right between you.
Even if she never changes her mind and you never renew your addresses, at least you’ll have peace between you. ”
For a moment Darcy could only stare at his cousin, then he slowly gave a nod. “I do so hate it when you are right.”
Fitzwilliam, as he expected, flashed a rakish grin. “What can I say, old boy? All this wisdom has to go somewhere.”
“Wiseacre,” Darcy muttered as he picked up one of the crumpled drafts of his letter and sent it flying toward Fitzwilliam’s head. His cousin cleverly ducked away from the paper cannonball and quit the room with a laugh.
Darcy groaned as he rose and went to fetch his errant weapon; he collected the others and threw the lot into the hearth, then used a matchstick to set them aflame.
As he watched the paper burn, he was forced to admit that Fitzwilliam had been right—at the least, he must offer his apologies to Elizabeth.
Yet he hoped to do more, to make her understand why he’d interfered in Bingley’s courtship, even if he did not feel he’d done wrong there.
To Bingley he’d been kinder than to himself.
More than that, however, he was determined to make her see Wickham’s true character.
Darcy could think of no other way to do so than to reveal the whole of their history—the good and the bad.
If nothing else, Elizabeth would know to keep watch over her sisters.
Lydia Bennet, the youngest, was the most impressionable of the family, and she was just the sort of girl that Wickham liked to ruin before simply disappearing.
Darcy had little doubt that several shopkeepers’ daughters had already been meddled with, or that his one-time friend had accounts open that would never be paid.
Yes , he thought with a sigh. Tonight, he would continue to think and reflect, and tomorrow he would explain himself. He could only hope that his words had the desired effect.