Page 8 of Why I Kissed You (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
Darcy’s indignation at the treatment of Elizabeth was such that enabled him to cross the half mile between the two houses in half the time it normally did to traverse that distance.
His first object was to go round to the stables and order his coach; he was grateful now for having decided to take it rather than coming to Rosings on horseback as he normally did, for they would need the space on the roof for Elizabeth’s trunks as well as his own.
He next entered the house, choosing to go through the garden door, which allowed him to bypass the morning room where no doubt his aunt was holding court with the obsequious parson.
Were he to see them now, in the present state of his mind, he did not doubt a permanent breach would be the result.
After instructing his valet to pack his trunk, Darcy went to his cousin’s room, and found Fitzwilliam there just putting on a pair of riding boots. “Will!” said he. “Care to join me in a ride about the park?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, Theo, I will be departing Kent within half an hour. I came only to ask if you wished to leave with me, for if you desire to stay you will have to make your own way home, as I am taking the carriage.”
Fitzwilliam stood, a frown marring his features. “Tell me what’s happened.”
In clipped sentences, Darcy explained having taken his cousin’s advice. He’d spoken with Elizabeth and laid out not only the reasons for interfering with Bingley and Miss Bennet, but also the truth of Wickham’s character .
“So, you are engaged then?” Fitzwilliam asked hopefully.
“I daresay she has not forgiven me the first,” said Darcy, “but I have been assured of her having confidence of my being truthful of the latter.”
“So… you’re not engaged, then,” observed Fitzwilliam.
Darcy snorted. “I think we must be, whether she wishes it or not.”
His cousin lifted an eyebrow. “Now you’ve lost me, Darce.”
“One of the servants at the parsonage observed us yesterday and told it to Mr. Collins, who of course wasted little time in reporting the whole to Lady Catherine,” Darcy said. “This has resulted in Miss Bennet being turned out.”
Fitzwilliam’s shock was evident. “I can scarce believe it!” he cried. “What could they have possibly seen but the two of you conversing?”
He then narrowed his eyes and stood with his arms akimbo. “Unless there’s something more that you’ve not told me…”
Darcy sighed, considered saying nothing, but then decided that, at this point, there was no reason to keep the full truth from Fitzwilliam any longer. “I kissed her.”
His cousin’s brows now rose toward his hairline. “You kissed her? Even after she refused you?”
Darcy nodded. “It… It was an impulse of the moment! We were both of us angry, our emotions running wild… I cannot even say who kissed whom first; I only know that one moment I was looking into those damn fine eyes of hers and seeing such passion in her gaze that, when next my own fell to her lips, I could only think of how much I wanted to kiss them.”
“And so you did,” Fitzwilliam quipped. “Bloody hell, Darcy, you’ve got yourself and poor Miss Bennet in a pickle, haven’t you?”
Darcy sighed heavily. “So it would seem. Miss Bennet was accused of attempting to compromise me, and for that she has been cast out of her cousin’s house. I think the truth is we compromised each other.”
“By your leaving, I suppose you have offered Miss Bennet the use of your carriage?” Fitzwilliam asked.
He nodded. “Mr. Collins’ note to his wife said Miss Bennet was to make her own way, which of course I could not in good conscience allow. Her being turned out is my own fault.”
“Do not be too hard on yourself, Will—you said it was mutual, did you not? Though I say it is right that you take responsibility for your actions all the same,” the colonel said then.
“But without a formal engagement between you, you cannot spend so long in the carriage alone together without creating more difficulties for the both of you.”
“True enough, but I have little choice. She has no maid of her own.”
Fitzwilliam grinned. “I say you revenge yourself on our dear aunt for her high-handedness and purloin one of the housemaids,” said he. “In fact, Kirk has told me that one of the below-stairs girls is not well-pleased with the treatment she and the other maids receive from their mistress.”
I am little surprised , Darcy mused, having too-often witnessed how his aunt verbally abused the maids when their work did not meet her exacting standards.
It did not sit well with him, to be enticing one of Lady Catherine’s servants from her employ even if he was angry and the girl dissatisfied, but Fitzwilliam was right.
He and Elizabeth could not travel together without a servant if they wished to observe the proprieties that Elizabeth had been accused of flaunting.
“Have your man speak to the girl. If she is willing, have her meet me at the carriage. It will be out front soon enough.”
He turned back for the door, and paused when he had grasped the handle to ask, “What will you do?”
“Probably best I go with you,” Fitzwilliam replied. “We can stop at the coaching inn on our way out of the village and rent a couple of horses, I am sure, and the ladies can have the carriage.”
Darcy nodded. “Very good. I will see you shortly.”
As he quit his cousin’s chamber, he heard Fitzwilliam order his valet, Kirk, to hurry and pack his trunk before going to seek out someone named Penelope—presumably the unhappy maid he had mentioned.
Darcy went back to his rooms to check on the progress of his own man and found that the ever-efficient Vincent was just closing his trunk; he shook his head with a smile, marveling as he sometimes did at the speed with which the man could pack weeks’ worth of clothing.
Giving the older gentleman final instruction to see his trunk to the carriage, Darcy drew a deep, fortifying breath in preparation for the coming meeting with his aunt—it was unavoidable, as both his upbringing and civility required that he take his leave of her.
He made his way downstairs, pausing before the morning room doors to set his features into a neutral expression—beyond them he could hear his aunt giving her usual spout of instructions to Mr. Collins about his sermon for the next Sunday service.
“Darcy!” cried Lady Catherine when he entered.
“There you are. Where have you been? I am quite put out with you, nephew—you did not come to tea yesterday, or to supper, and you took breakfast on a tray in your room as well. It is highly irregular to absent yourself so often. What excuse have you for such conduct?”
“None that would satisfy you, ma’am, I am sure,” Darcy said. “I regret that I must further disappoint you, as I am come to take my leave.”
Lady Catherine rapped her cane on the floor. “Take your leave? Whatever do you mean? You were to stay another week here; I am sure you said so only yesterday morning. You cannot leave and deprive Anne and me of the only good society in these parts, Darcy. I forbid it.”
It was an effort not to scowl, as well as to speak civilly as he replied, “Begging your pardon, my lady, but you have not the authority to forbid me doing anything. Good day to you.”
Darcy turned on his heel to depart. Behind him Lady Catherine stood as Mr. Collins was saying, “It is her doing, I am sure of it! My dear Lady Catherine, all is worse than we thought!”
“Worse indeed, Mr. Collins—and you are to blame! It was you that allowed your wife to invite that viper into your home!” Lady Catherine snapped.
Darcy turned back. “Have a care, madam, how you speak!” he said, unleashing a hint of his anger. “I know not precisely what Mr. Collins’ servant has said of Miss Bennet, but I can assure you that she is guilty of nothing.”
“My good sir, you are surely under the influence of her wanton arts and allurements,” fumbled Mr. Collins. “I am quite certain now that the reason for which my foolish cousin refused my own most generous offer of marriage was due to her wicked plan for trapping you into a most unfortunate union!”
“I have no doubt of it!” cried Lady Catherine. “Darcy, that upstart seeks to raise herself from obscurity by stealing you away from your betrothed.”
Darcy clenched his hands into fists tight enough that his nails began to dig into his palms; better that sting than losing his temper, though it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it in check.
“Lady Catherine,” said he tersely. “Firstly, you know perfectly well that there is not and has never been an engagement between your daughter and myself.
I am neither by honour nor inclination confined to my cousin; you and my mother did as much as you could in planning the marriage, but its completion depended upon me—and I made my feelings on that score quite clear to you years ago.
“Secondly, I repeat that Miss Bennet is innocent of the misconduct of which she has been accused, and I can assure you of that because I was there. It may surprise you to know, Aunt, that Miss Bennet refused the offer of marriage I made to her yesterday, and she was right to do so because I did not present my suit in a gentlemanly manner. Your immeasurably cruel and entirely unwarranted actions in ordering she be turned out of her friend’s home, with no means or assistance in getting to her own, has had the opposite effect than that which you desired.
I will take her there myself, and to save her from further unjust accusations, I will again apply for her hand in the hope that she will choose this time to accept me.
I will not allow your misguided ambitions to ruin a young lady who has done you no wrong. ”
Darcy turned a narrow-eyed gaze at Collins. “And she refused you, sir, because you are an imbecile, far too full of a misguided sense of importance and more concerned with pleasing your patroness than the God you vowed to serve.”